Tears of Bloody Innocence
by lessa4
Summary: A new era. Led by trained subjects, Project Apocolypse has begun. But in the real world, there is emotion. There is love. And love turns worlds upside down and inside out before setting them straight. KxR, yaoi, violence, alcohol, smoking
1. One

Found, re-vamped, sending out feelers to see if I should continue it. It'll get interesting, that's all I have to say. Though, I only have two chapters done, so the plot is free to flow. Meaning, if I continue, it'll take a while to figure out what the hell I'm doing.

Standard disclaimers apply to this, and all fanfics I have written.

Tears of Bloody Innocence- Chapter One

A face always hidden, whether by mask or shadow. Project Apocalypse, Trial Nine, Subject Six Three Zero Eight stood impassive, waiting for the newest assignment. Red eyes flashed as the man handed over a manila envelope. "You will begin the final stage two days from now. Years of study and hard work comes down to the completion of this mission. I don't need to remind you of the consequences should you fail."

And still he remained impassive, face devoid of any emotion. He knew. But failure wasn't an option. He could hear the smirk in his trainer's voice. "Very well. You may tell Six Two Nine Four that it has begun. Dismissed."

6308 turned sharply on his heel, stalking silently from the room, the unopened envelope still in his hand. Moving with an unnerving quiet down the halls, he passed a two-way mirror, not even bothering to look into the training gym, knowing it to be deserted. He couldn't hear the sounds of hearts beating inside. Past the infirmary, where only two nurses tidied up, the last of the battered subjects already stitched up and gone back to the dorms.

Gliding down an endlessly winding metal staircase, 6308 reached a long hall filled with doors. Most of the rooms were empty, dust and a damp cold permeating them, and no one bothered to make them livable again. Only five rooms were needed. Only five subjects had survived out of the single successful trial. Eleven years of harsh training and even harsher punishment left no mercy for the weak, for those less than perfect.

Opening one of the doors, 6308 walked into his room. It was spartan, only what was needed, with nothing to spare. A bed against one wall, a small, three drawer dresser and a chair. All the furniture was a dull, unfinished wood; the only colors were the white of the single sheet that covered the mattress, 6308's black and red training outfit and the blue of his hair and tattoos that marked him an elite of the elite. Pulling off his shirt, 6308 folded it and placed it in the top drawer to be used again. Toned muscle slid smoothly under pale skin that hadn't seen the sun in many months as he sat on the bed, taking the envelope into his lap.

Opening it, he pulled out a sheet of paper with his assignment typed on it, putting it aside after a few seconds, having finished the page. Turning the envelope upside down, 6308 scattered five pictures in front of himself on the bed. An old, bald man with a ridiculous mustache smiled happily and 6308 growled slightly. _Him_. Oh, that one would pay for almost destroying Project Apocalypse. Turning his attention to the other photographs, 6308 studied them. A boy, no older than twelve, with large glasses and mousey brown hair, a frail little thing that he could easily snap in half with one hand, obviously a braniac. Harmless. A blonde, about thirteen, with large, sparkling blue eyes and a giddy smile. Typical sugar happy teen, no problem. Another thirteen year old with wild navy hair and eyes to match, one eye closed in an over-cocky wink, fingers held in a peace sign as he grinned. Just looking at the boy disgusted 6308, pathetic. And the last, a black haired boy of fifteen, the same age as himself. Golden eyes slit down the middle and a small smile showed pointed fangs. That one _may_ bear watching.

6308 paused when he heard a heart beating outside his door. In a quiet voice no ordinary human should have been able to hear from such a distance, he said, "Come in."

The door opened and a figure slid inside before closing it again. Electric blue eyes locked with blood red ones as 6294 stood in front of 6308. Their gazes broke as 6294 took in the paper and the photographs. A small smile played over his lips. "Don't kill the old man too soon Kai," he said, sitting next to the other on the bed.

6308 snorted, and not from the use of his birth name; Tala and the others called him by that rather than his number and he did the same for them. "They specifically said I _couldn't_ kill Dickenson, it's a scouting mission 'until further notice'."

Tala wrinkled his nose in a semblance of empathy. "Shitty luck, kid," he grinned. Red eyes narrowed at him, but he continued undaunted. "Just finish up quick so we can get this over with. I don't like waiting."

Smirking at the closest thing he had to a friend, Kai quipped, "They say patience is a virtue. But considering all the others that you're lacking, you shouldn't concern yourself with that one."

A flaming eyebrow cocked over icy eyes, only slightly amused. Outside their dorms, such a conversation would never take place. Outside their dorms, the emotionless masks returned and they were once again subjects 6294 and 6308 of Project Apocalypse. The perfect weapons, the perfect killers, all in the guise of teenagers. Teenagers immersed in the popular sport of Beyblade, a sport that allowed them to complete quiet, blameless assassinations, all to meet the ideal of Project Apocalypse.

And such an ideal. To remove all the weaknesses of the human population by weeding out the bad genes. Prevent them from being passed on by eliminating them completely. That was the dream of Boris Bolcov. That was the reality that he had set into motion.

Glancing at the assignment sheet, 6294 looked at the date. His companion would leave early the day after tomorrow. "Are you going to come to practice in the morning?"

6308 snorted again, crossing his arms over his bare chest, falling to lie on his back. "Do you think they'd_ let _me miss it?"

The redhead smiled wryly with a tiny shake of his head, standing up. "I'll tell Ivan, Bryan and Spencer. Get some sleep Kai. You don't look so great." With that, Tala was gone as quietly as he had come.

Rolling over, 6308 replaced the typed sheet and the photographs in the envelope, then tossed it to the floor next to his bed. The automatic lights would shut off at eleven o'clock, ten minutes from now, and he could sleep until they came on again at three to wake him for practice.

The lights came on four hours later, simultaneously rousing five teens from their separate beds. Silently, they filed up the stairs and into the infirmary, where they were each given plain, chalky tasting protein shakes. As the boys finished their breakfast, the nurses came and removed any bandages that had been applied the night before.

Marching quietly down the hall, 6308, 6294 and their companions, the smallest, 6469, Ivan, Spencer, 6198, and the largest of them all coming behind, Bryan, 6637, entered the large training room. They lined up in front of their trainer and awaited instructions. They were simple. Short and to the point, the masked man said, "Stay alive. 6308 first."

The scientist preceded his charges out of the room to stand on the other side of the two way mirror. Placing goggles over the eye slits of his mask, he watched.

The lights went off in the training room, but 6308 didn't flinch. He bent his knees slightly, reaching for his blade and launcher. Fitting them together by feel alone, he stood ready, waiting. Another heartbeat entered the room and 6308's head turned to face it, though he couldn't see. But that didn't matter. The heartbeat belonged to a male, large and strong, one who could probably see him, since the heart rate didn't increase as the opponent entered the pitch black gym. Another entered, smaller than the first; his heart didn't need to pump as much blood to the body, this one just as confidant. Then another, and another, until finally there were eight total. A smart man would lay his money on the fifteen year old.

6308 smiled to himself, but then . . . click. Click. Clickclickclickclickclickclick. Eight hammers pulled back as guns were cocked and full chambers settled into place. Revolvers, old fashioned by the sound, probably with six chambers each. Six shots for each man, that meant forty-eight bullets aimed at 6308. His fingers twitched imperceptibly, taking firmer hold on his launcher. He would have to be fast.

Pulling the ripcord, 6308 called out "Dranzer!" It didn't matter if he gave away his position. He didn't plan on being in the same spot for long.

His blade flew forward, viciously striking one man on the temple, dropping him to the floor. Forty-two bullets left. Dranzer reversed the attack, shooting backwards against an elbow, hard enough to shatter the bone. A metallic clang echoed hollowly over a cry of pain as the revolver hit the ground. Thirty-six.

The remaining six divided their attention, four of them foolishly wasting their ammunition, trying to hit the whirling blade that evaded every shot. The other two turned to 6308. Cut off the snake's head and it ceases to move. But the boy wasn't there.

6308 hung from a ceiling beam by his knees, dangling above the two men that were searching for him. He began to reach . . . the thugs spun around as Dranzer dropped another marksman, then a fourth right in front of their eyes. 6308 repositioned himself, then quickly reached down and grabbed one man on the head and shoulder, jerking harshly, not bothering to hear the bone crack as the spinal column snapped before releasing the ceiling beam and landing on the other man. His fingers curled over the man's forehead and felt the smooth glass covering the grooves where the poor fool's eyes were. Tearing off the night-vision goggles, he wrenched his hand back and up, feeling his fingers bite into soft, wet flesh.

Screams filled the dark room as the blinded man fell to his knees. The spinning blade dropped another, leaving only one. 6308 called Dranzer back to his fist, listening to the man's footsteps as he backed away, unwilling to show the psycho teen his exposed back. Stepping forward for momentum, 6308 slung his blade in a reverse spin, hearing it slice into the skin of the man's throat and the sudden splatter of hot life-blood spilling to the cold ground.

The lights came back on, allowing 6308 to view his handiwork. Yells and howls of pain still came from the man who clutched at his face, blood pouring from between his fingers. Three dead, four unconscious and broken, and one blinded. 6308 caught his partner as it returned to him, stowing it safely in his left pocket. Turning callously from the grisly sight, the boy walked out of the training room.

In the hallway, 6308 walked past the other subjects and Boris, halting when his creator called, "You didn't have to kill them, 6308."

The teen didn't even bother to turn around. Sliding his hand into his right pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, putting the stick in his mouth and lighting it. Taking a long drag, he exhaled a steady stream of smoke before replying. "If you wanted them all alive, you should have said something."

And with that, 6308 sauntered away.


	2. Two

I don't care for AJ Topper. Not at all. - He's so fun to bash though.

Tears of Bloody Innocence- Chapter Two

"And now we're down to the last three Bladers folks, and let me tell you, these next two matches are gonna be close," chirped the overly enthusiastic commenter in the background. "Competing first, Rei Kon from China will face off with Tyson Kinamio of our own Tokyo, Japan! The winner will tangle with Kai Hiwitari of Russia, and I wish them luck with that! These three have been blowing through the tournament, folks, and I said it before, but I'll say it again, this is gonna be close!"

6308 leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were closed as he listened to the others approach the Bey dish. He heard a blade click into its launcher and opened his fiery eyes to watch for strategies and weaknesses to use to his advantage. Tyson Kinamio, the navy-haired boy whose photograph had so disgusted him, held his launcher in front of himself, ready. But the other, Rei Kon, stood on the other side of the dish, relaxed, arms at his sides.

"I have nothing to prove," he said to Tyson, and 6308 had no trouble hearing him clearly. "Good luck Tyson." Smiling across the dish, he bowed to the shocked boy and walked off the platform.

Silence reigned for only a moment. "I don't believe it people! It seems that Rei Kon has forfeited his match! Well, these tournaments are just _full_ of surprises, aren't they? Alrighty then, let's move on. Tyson Kinamio against Kai Hiwitari to determine our winner!" shouted the positively giddy AJ Topper.

Uncrossing his arms, 6308 pushed off the wall and approached the platform. He walked unhurriedly up the steps to the dish, putting his hand in his left pocket, eyes fixed on the younger teen across from him who waited, face set in determination. Locking Dranzer into place, he gripped the ripcord, waiting for the signal.

"Okay folks, here it is! The moment you've all been waiting for . . ." AJ paused dramatically. "The final battle in the World Tournament. And I just hav'ta say I hope you're as excited as I am! Tyson Kinamio is ready, Kai Hiwitari has just fitted his blade and . . ." AJ trailed off. Down in the stadium, 6308 was sending his iciest drop-dead glare at the announcers' box and the unfortunate, overzealous AJ.

"Uh . . . well . . . ehem. Anyways, you folks can see it for yourselves . . . Three, two, one. Let it rip!"

6308 picked up his blade and turned away from the dish. He walked coolly out of the stadium for the next point on his agenda, not even acknowledging the people that paused in their cheering to stare as he passed by. The only sign that he gave of being aware of his surroundings was an imperceptible nod to a masked man who stood in shadow with a red-haired teen by his side.

"Excellent," the scientist whispered as the Blader strode past. Once the bluenette was gone from sight, the boy next to him spoke.

"Sir?" He received a nod, allowing him to continue. "Sir, he lost. I don't understand."

"That is why you follow orders 6294. He wasn't trying, he was _supposed_ to lose. Use your brain, boy. It's not there for decoration."

Tala bowed his head apologetically, face carefully blank. But inside, he smoldered with rage.

Sitting on a plush couch in a spectator's box that had been turned into an office, 6308 studied the man in front of him. He was an old, grandfatherly sort of fellow, round and bald but for a bristle of white under his nose. He sat nervously in a chair facing 6308, dabbing at his brow with a white handkerchief.

"Ehem. Yes, well. Kai, what I believe I'm trying to say is, would you care to join my team? These two boys are already a part, but I do say, I need at least three more. Kenny here doesn't blade, you see," he said, gesturing to a boy with large glasses, clutching a laptop as he stood next to Tyson, who was leaning on the wall. "So, what do you say, my boy? Are you up to the challenge of captaincy? It is a rather large responsibility . . ."

Kai nodded curtly, but cut off Mr. Dickenson's exclamation of 'wonderful!' with, "I get to choose the other two."

The oldster hurried to assure him, saying things like 'of course' and 'most certainly, my boy.' 6308 wasn't listening, closing his eyes; he conjured up the images of the other photographs he had seen. The blonde, what was his name . . . Max. Max Tate was what that annoying announcer had called him. And the boy that had refused to battle Tyson. He wouldn't forget that one. "Max Tate and Rei Kon," he told the man shortly.

Mr. Dickenson waddled over to his desk and pressed a button on the intercom sitting there. "Yes, Francois, I'd like you to send up Misters Rei Kon and Max Tate, if it's not too much trouble."

A voice echoed mechanically back. "No trouble, Mr. D. I'll find them."

Mr. Dickenson fussed with some papers while the other two boys came and sat in different chairs. The brainiac began typing furiously, and Kai was left to ignore the other's attempts at small talk.

"Great tournament, huh Kai?"

"Mm."

"So, uh, I'm Tyson, and this is Kenny . . ."

"Oh, sure no one introduce me," came a feminine voice from Kenny's lap. "Thanks a bunch Chief."

"Sorry Dizzi!" the small boy hurried. "Kai, this is Dizzi," he turned the screen to face the Russian.

"A pleasure to meet you," quipped the computer. 6308 raised an eyebrow. "Hmph. Kids these days have no manners," Dizzi fumed.

"Is that _thing_ a Bit Beast," he asked incredulously. The younger boy nodded a bit sheepishly. "Then how," he said slowly, "Did you manage to get it stuck in a _computer_?"

"Um, well, it's a long story," Kenny blushed.

"Hey! I can hear you, you know!" But her muttered protests were cut off as Kenny shut the laptop quickly. He didn't want Dizzi to offend Kai, who didn't look like he'd feel guilty about taking the cyber Bit Beast apart with a wrench.

Tyson readjusted his hat resolutely, opening his overly-large mouth to speak again. 6308 gave a mental sigh of relief when the door opened. A large, black man stood with two teens in the doorway. The besuited giant pushed the boys inside the room gently. "Mr. Tate and Mr. Kon, Mr. D."

Mr. Dickenson looked up from his papers. "Ah, thank you Francois, that was all." The door shut behind the big man as the head of the BBA smiled at the newcomers. He told them of his proposition with much pomp and bravado, introducing the new captain and the other two boys, looking at them expectantly when he was through.

The blonde gave a sweet smile, blue eyes sparkling happily. "Sure! Sounds like fun!"

All eyes in the room turned to watch the Chinese boy. His head was tilted down so that his wild black bangs obscured his face. He stood quietly for a small eternity, studying the floor. Rei looked up, his amber eyes apologetic. "I finished what I came here to do, and I was going back to my village." He turned slightly, making as though to reach for the doorknob. "Thanks for the offer Mr. Dickenson, but I want to go home."

There was a moment of silence, before the old man dabbed at his shining forehead, but nodded all the same. "Of course young man, no harm done. Oh my goodness . . ." Rei dropped his gaze back to the floor, then looked from Mr. Dickenson to Kai, and back at the ground.

Kai's mind was in turmoil. He couldn't say no, that boy had to join the team if this was ever going to work. His mission _depended_ on Rei being a part of this. The other two had a knack for blading, but a knack wasn't talent, or skill, they would need to learn those things. He could _not_ train that level of excellence into more than two people. Boris had had trouble training four of them, and he had an entire team to back him. Kai was only one person, elite, yes, but only one nonetheless. He wouldn't have to teach Rei. He needed this one, not just needed, wanted. Like he had never wanted anything else before.

6308 stared in shock as the dark boy gave a small, hesitant bow and walked out. _"Do whatever you need to do. Just get it done."_ Exploding from his seat, he strode after the other teen, catching up and grabbing him by the elbow.

"Uh, Kai?"

He glanced over to see Max, Tyson and Kenny standing in the doorway, gawping at him with surprise. Wine red melded with polished gold as Rei gave the slate-haired boy a questioning look. 6308's eyes darted to a door in the hallway, and hearing no heartbeat coming from inside, pulled the door open and shoved Rei in before following.

The two teens were pressed close together, neither moving for a moment. It was dark enough that Kai could just barely see the outline of the other's face mere centimeters from his own. They disentangled themselves carefully and Rei reached up, groping blindly until he found a thin string, giving it a tug.

Click! A single, uncovered bulb illuminated the tiny, closet-like space, allowing the boys to see mops, buckets, brooms and various cleaning supplies. "Scenic," the Chinese teen muttered under his breath. "Kai? Why are we in a janitor's closet?"

"You can't say no, Rei," he blurted, cringing at the sound of his own voice. It was pathetic. This wasn't going to be fun; he had never asked a favor from anyone before. "I need you on this team if it's ever going to go anywhere. The others can't win without serious training, and I need at least on person who knows what they're doing."

Rei didn't think that now would be the time to point out that Kai had just lost to Tyson. Instead he told the Russian, "I'm sorry dude, but I have a team who're expecting me back in China. And I might not even join them; I don't have to win to prove myself to anyone. I just wanna go home and . . . what's the matter?"

Kai's brow was furrowed in a look of complete concentration, his eyes closed as he gathered himself. "Give me a second," he muttered. "I've never done this before." "_ . . . Just get it done . . ." _Then he opened his brilliant red orbs and Rei found himself drowning in their fiery, sub-zero depths. "Rei?" he asked quietly. "Please."

The Chinese boy blinked, breaking the spell. "It matters that much to you?" The other didn't answer, but looked at him with eyes filled with anticipation.

Inside, 6308 froze, hardly able to breathe. Did it matter that much? Why?

Rei sighed reluctantly, but nodded anyway. "Alright. But you owe me one." His head cocked to the side after a minute of consideration. "You've never said 'please' before?" He watched incredulously as Kai shook his head. "Well, it wasn't too hard, was it?"

"Trust me Kon, you have no idea."

Their eyes locked again, neither blinking, neither looking away. A hint of tension rose between them, one that neither Kai nor Rei could have explained, but both knew had to be broken. Fast.

"So, uh, are we gonna stay in the broom closet all day?"

Wordlessly the stoic 6308 reached behind himself to open the door and led the way back to Mr. Dickenson's office. Rei told the man that he had changed his mind, calling down another barrage of forehead 'wonderful' s, 'very good my boy' s and forehead dabbing. Max smiled at the dark haired boy and Kenny began typing in statistics. Tyson shook Rei's hand, but glared hard at Kai, who merely raised an eyebrow.

Mr. Dickenson gathered them together and led them to the back parking lot, where there was a limo waiting to take them to their penthouse. The old man explained that they could work out living arrangements on their own, and oh my goodness, he was just so pleased, dear boys.

Walking behind Kai, Tyson whispered fiercely at him. "What did you do to him? I know you did something Kai! Rei better be okay, or I'll come after you, man."

6308 smirked to himself. Obviously the feeling of dislike between himself and the younger teen was mutual. And the though of the Japanese boy 'coming after him' was possibly the most hilarious thing he had ever heard.

The five boys climbed into the limo, four of them talking amongst themselves. The darkened window that separated them from the driver rolled down, and Francois' dark chocolate eyes smiled at them over his sunglasses. "Welcome to the BBA Bladebreakers, gentlemen. Glad to have you." With that, he started the engine and began to take them to their new home.


	3. Three

Okay, a little dull, but 'sall right. Additional disclaimer- I do not own Salem cigarettes, I don't even smoke them. Can you say yuck?

* * *

Tears of Bloody Innocence- Chapter Three

6308 sat stretched out in the open windowsill, staring out into the jungle of Tokyo city, his hands clenched on the fabric of his pants, itching to reach into one of his pockets. It didn't matter which one, he just had to do it before he died of boredom.

The training was not going well. Yes, they had won the two informal matches that Mr. Dickenson had set up, but 6308 knew that they could do so much better. Tyson ate too much, Max was constantly giddy, Tyson was too loud, Kenny was always saying some sort of technological nonsense, Tyson complained at every exercise, he was ready to turn Dizzi into scrap metal. Oh, and he wanted to wrap his hands around Tyson's throat until the boy's face matched his ridiculous hair.

In fact, the only one he was remotely pleased with was Rei. More than remotely; Kai said jump, Rei jumped, and did it again to make sure he got it right. Then he'd add a back handspring just to see if he could. And as rewarding as this was, 6308 was frustrated to the point of snapping that he had to put so much energy into making the other two simply obey him.

Not only did they not obey him, but every single one was constantly asking him to open quote, hang out, close quote. Every time one of them brought it up, he'd glare until they got the hint. But the hint would only last for a half-hour at most. If this kept up, he would have to beat it into them- Kai Hiwitari **_is not_** a people person.

His fingers twitched, spasming as he fought the urge to plunge them into his right pocket. At first, he hadn't understood why Boris had let him get addicted to those little, God-sent sticks of nicotine, but he did now. It was another test of his self-control, and another way that Boris could ensure that he did as he was told. In the beginning, he had struggled against the scientist and his team, resisting his orders. When that happened, his cigarettes would disappear . . . until he did exactly what he was told. But that had been a time long past, at least six years ago. He had no problems obeying now.

Kai had to clench his fists together to stop himself now, and nails digging into his flesh, little crescent shaped indents glaring red from the abused skin. Smiling wryly, he decided he had suffered enough lately, and deserved this small release.

His hand plunged into his right pocket, removing the bright green and black carton and square lighter. He lovingly caressed the almost yin-yang logo that was engraved on the box before drawing one of its inhabitants out. Putting a cigarette between his lips, he flicked open the smooth silver lid, a spurt of flames erupting from the cool metal to ignite on the paper. 6308 inhaled, setting the end to smoldering, closing the lighter and placing it back in his pocket.

Leaning back against the windowsill, he blew out a long, steady stream of smoke, watching the small tendril join with the persistent trickle that lifted from his cigarette. The grey-blue mist drifted in the crisp, dark air, twisting itself into patterns, dancing erotically above the sultry lights from below before fading into nothingness.

Contemplating the little curls of smoke, he sighed, damning his internal clock soundly. For the first two weeks, he hadn't had a problem with his irregular sleep patters, merely imposing them on the other members of the Bladebreakers. And it had worked fine, until the other boys had started falling asleep during their drills. So 6308 had stopped pushing them all night, and had drawn the limit at eleven o'clock to compensate. He couldn't expect them to be able to keep up with an elite such as he, even if he badly wanted to. But that meant he was awake . . . all night long . . . with nothing to do. His training forbade idleness, and it was driving him crazy.

He replaced the white stick in his mouth, inhaling its bitter stench and savory taste all at once. He was about to release his breath when his entire frame tensed, feeling a hand clenched on his shoulder. Without hesitation, he gripped the wrist and flipped the person over his head, dangling him out of the window.

"Kai!"

Beneath the red glow at the end of his cigarette hung Rei, pale and shaking, but holding valiantly to the others wrist with his free hand. "Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell do you think you were doing?"

"Uh . . ." The Chinese boy cringed, glancing down at the streets and lights below him. Way, _way_ below him. "Can we continue this conversation with both of us out of mortal danger? Please?"

Nodding, Kai clenched his cigarette between his teeth so he wouldn't drop it and hauled the other teen over the windowsill and back into the room. As soon as his feet touched the carpet, Rei collapsed into a heap, leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Letting out a long-held breath, his tawny eyes opened to look up at his captain. "Note to self: never sneak up on Kai. He'll throw me out a window."

"Hn," was his only reply. Taking his cigarette from his lips, 6308 blew out a long stream of smoke before flicking the butt out the window. 'Never sneak up on Kai.' The only thing was, no one had been able to "sneak up" on him since long before he could remember. Why had Rei been able to?

"Sorry I scared you man. I keep forgetting that people aren't used to me moving without a lot of noise." Misinterpreting the odd look he received, he expanded. "You know, neko-jin heritage. Look like a cat, move like a cat, act like a cat."

6308 was silent for a moment, in which Rei shifted his weight, drawing one knee up to his chest. A second before the hush became unbearable, he asked, "Your body works like a cat's would. Including keener eyesight . . . or faster heart rate?" At Rei's nod, Kai, reached his hand back into his right pocket.

That was why he hadn't heard the boy. His ability to hear another person lay in listening for individual heartbeats. A cat's heart beats so fast it seems to be a single hum, and was therefore not something he would pick up on. Interesting. Flicking open the Zippo, he bent his head and lit a second Salem, this time considerately turning his head away from the Chinese boy as he blew out his grey haze. Glancing down at the boy who looked up at him curiously, he lifted an eyebrow. "I _know_ you don't want one, so say it already."

Rei shook his head. "I don't really know _what_ to say. I've got so many questions. What were you thinking about that I scared you that bad, why do you do _that_," he wrinkled his nose at the cigarette, "to your body, why won't you let anyone near you...?"

Folding himself back into place at the window, 6308 stared out over the city, eyes wandering to the stars that were drowned out by Tokyo's lights. "Curiosity killed the neko-jin," he warned.

"Ah, but we have nine lives," he grinned. "I can afford to lose one."

Scarlet meshed with gold, locking into the deadliest of embraces, where neither can find meaning behind the stare of the other. "But I can't."

* * *

How's that for a bit of double meaning? And so it begins. Okay, so here's my deal. There won't be a whole lot of actual blading in this, just references to matches that I'll probably make up. If it gets too confusing in later chapters, please let me know and I will fix them. 


	4. Four

Why is it that after I hit about the third part of a fic, nothing goes right! It bothers me. A LOT. Merda. That's what it is. I'm not particularly pleased with this chapter, but I'm hoping the last part will make up for it.

* * *

Tears of Bloody Innocence- Chapter Four

"Alright!" Tyson punched his fist into the air as he jumped up from his seat, his seatbelt doing nothing to hold him in place. Falling back down he clutched his baseball cap tenderly, trying not to aggravate his new bruise via the ceiling. Not to be deterred, he grinned in a manner that made 6308 want to pound him into the floor. "Finally! I mean, jeeze Kai, I thought we were ready weeks ago, but no, Mr. Sourpuss had to test us fifty bazillion times first . . ."

Mr. Sourpuss glowered in the younger teen's direction, imagining his fingers wrapped around the boy's pale neck . . .

"And I dunno about you guys, but I am going to kick some serious boo-tay!" Tyson bragged, brandishing Dragoon proudly before dropping it as the car hit a bump.

Kenny peered up from Dizzi's screen to focus his glasses on the obnoxious bluenette. "I don't recommend that Tyson. It violates the rules for you to be close enough to an opponent to kick him, let alone actually do it. It would most likely result in a disqualification."

The excited chatter from three of the Bladebreakers cut off abruptly as they all stared at the Chief.

If computers had faces to grin maniacally, Dizzi would have at that moment. Instead, she took the opportunity to test out her new sound system. A lone cricket chirruped innocently.

"Wow Kenny," Rei giggled. "For a genius, you sure are dumb."

6308 turned away for the . . . _cheerful_ . . . scene, staring out the window as the car drove through the streets of the town. He glowered to himself, fingers flexing as he debating which object he wanted to reach for; his cigarettes or Tyson's throat.

Mr. Sourpuss indeed.

And they most certainly had _not_ been ready weeks ago. In fact, he very much doubted they were ready now. But when a certain masked individual sends you a letter which can be neatly summarized as 'What the hell is taking so long!' you have to pay attention.

As it was, he was displeased that Boris had tried to contact him, it made his cover harder to maintain. He vaguely recalled Tyson asking who the letter was from, and the first thing he had blurted out was 'My Uncle Boris.' The thought itself was disturbing enough to piss him off. What was even worse was having to ignore Tyson asking the most inane questions about the family he didn't even have.

The only good part about that letter was a note scrawled at the bottom corner, a messy, hastily written 'Write me with news' and a scribble that Kai knew was a signature. 6294's signature. He gained some comfort knowing that he wasn't the only one who couldn't stand another minute of this monotonous waiting.

6308 sat up as the limo pulled up in front of the complex where their competition was to be held. Allowing a small smile of satisfaction settle on his lips, 6308 stepped onto the pavement and into the building, itching to start his battle.

Time Change

Kenny sat perched on the edge of his chair at the kitchen table, staring avidly at Dizzi's screen as she played a clip from the five o'clock news program to him. The worried looking reporter was standing outside a hospital holding the microphone to her rouged lips.

". . . Doctors have yet to diagnose the full extent of the boy's injuries, but he was removed from the ER about half an hour ago. He has yet to regain consciousness, and must be kept in a intensive care unit until . . ." Kenny's glasses looked up quickly as a cupboard shut several feet away from him with a purposely exaggerated bang. Hastily snapping Dizzi shut, he gaped at the shirtless boy before him and managed to stutter, "Um, hey there Kai . . . I, uh . . ."

"Do they know if he'll live?"

"Huh?" Chief asked, flabbergasted that the captain had chosen to speak to him. "They, uh, they don't know yet . . ."

6308 nodded, filled his glass from the sink and left the bewildered whiz staring after him.

Carrying his glass up the stairs, 6308 slipped into the bedroom he shared with his Chinese teammate. A quick scan of the room proved that the other boy wasn't there, which allowed 6308 to climb up into the windowsill once more to watch the city move below him, a breeze tickling over the pale skin of his chest. Taking a sip from his glass, 6308 held it loosely in his hand, gaze fixed on the traffic lights that refracted in its shallow depths.

He heard the doorknob creak as someone placed a hand on it and twisted, and knew by the distinct lack of a heartbeat that it was Rei. He glanced up as the other blader entered the room, turning back to the open night air when he after Rei knew he had seen him. There would be no more throwing teammates out the window.

Looking curiously at his captain, Rei began to get ready for bed, unwrapping his long hair from its ponytail and removing his shirt, tossing it in the hamper. Untying the string on his pants, his eyes were once more drawn to the figure sitting in the window, and he retied his garment, moving across the room to stand next to the window.

Sighing gently, he spoke to the apparently guilt-ridden Kai. "Look dude, it wasn't really your fault. He just wasn't ready for the attack and you can't pull something that powerful. He's gonna be okay, you'll see."

A small breath escaped Kai's lips which could have been either a resigned sigh or a quick, soundless laugh.

Rei focused on Kai's face a moment longer, hesitating only a bit before he put a comforting arm around his shoulder.

The warm skin suddenly touching his cold flesh made Kai freeze, red eyes widening slightly at the contact. He turned in the window to face Rei, who kept his arm around him so he was now in a one armed hug, long dark hair tickling his skin, his bare chest centimeters from Rei's. If he took a deep breath, his chest would brush against the other's . . . Kai stopped himself just in time.

Rei heard the shallow intake of air and stepped forward, so that if his captain lost control, he could cry on his shoulder. The shocked look on Kai's face before he did was enough to let him know that the boy was upset, the gasp only confirming Rei's misplaced guess. "It's okay. It's gonna be fine," he assured, giving the strong shoulders a squeeze, rubbing his warm hands up and down the cold back.

With his empty hand, Kai tentatively returned the hug, his arm loose, but still wrapped around Rei's. When the neko-jin released him, he let out the breath he had been holding and drained the contents of his glass. Shaking his head to clear it, he glanced up into amber eyes, nodding his silent thanks.

Giving the bluenette a comforting smile, Rei retreated to his bag, stooping to grab his brush before leaving the room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, 6308 gritted his teeth, his fist tightening around the glass, fine crack spider-webbing away from his fingers. Glaring at his hand in frustration, he spat out a curse, his skin still tingling where Rei had touched him. "What the hell was that?" he berated himself. With a decisive snarl, he put the glass on the bedside stand before he broke it, lighting up a Salem before turning back to the window, his stormy thoughts black.

Safely outside, Rei leaned against the wall, letting out a breath of relief. What the hell was he doing?


End file.
